


Across The Stars

by Bittodeath



Series: Bingos 2020 [4]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Force Dyad (Star Wars), Force Visions, M/M, Prophecy, Sith Wars, jedi!peter, sith!wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: The Sith have conquered CORUSCANT and with it, the JEDI TEMPLE.Jedi Knight PETER PARKER was sent on a diplomatic mission to retrieve his Jedi Master, MAY PARKER, held prisoner by pirates on the Mid-Rim world of HAIDORAL PRIME.However, he is not the only one who has come to get her…-Or: the one where Jedi!Peter meets Darksider!Wade, who is somewhat bad at being a Sith...
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Bingos 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588300
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42
Collections: Spideypool Bingo 2020 Round 2





	Across The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the free space on my Bingo Card for the SpideyPool Bingo. (Yes, it IS a pun on free space. If you read _Moments_ , you know by now how much I love puns.)
> 
> This story is set during the Sith War.

The Sith have conquered CORUSCANT and with it, the JEDI TEMPLE. Jedi Knight PETER PARKER was sent on a diplomatic mission to retrieve his Jedi Master, MAY PARKER, held prisoner by pirates on the Mid-Rim world of HAIDORAL PRIME. However, he is not the only one who has come to get her…

-

Peter only liked meditation with his Master. May could, somehow, appease him and let him bask in the Force, but without her, he struggled to reach even the basest levels of meditation.

No, that was a lie. Peter could sink deep into the Force, and had one of the strongest connections to it in human memory, but he found no peace in meditation. As far as he could remember, even before he was a Padawan, when he was still a youngling, the Force would… show him things. Things he would have rather ignored, if he could. As it was, finding peace was difficult.

\- _the Temple was on fire and the universe was screaming in agony, lightsabres swinging in deadly arcs against armours of white, and everything was pain, so much pain, it shouldn’t-_

Peter opened his eyes and wiped his forehead, the heels of his palms pressing against his eyes. This was fine. Everything was fine. He would retrieve May from the pirates’ hold with the help of a generous ransom, and they would re-join the fight against the Sith, hopefully to liberate Coruscant. His hand slid aside to fidget with his Padawan braid, but met nothing and he fumbled for a moment before remembering he didn’t have it anymore – May did, ever since he’d passed his Trials.

He was a Knight now, and he ought to act as such. The automatic pilot signalled it was time for him to take the command back to exit hyperspace and land on Haidoral Prime. The pirates were waiting for him, and he touched his lightsabre, reaching out through the Force to his former Master. May was alive, as far as he could tell, and fine, which was a relief – though he would only be relieved once she’d be with him.

“Stay here”, he told his droid, a D5 unit, before he exited his ship.  
“Jedi”, the pirate chief greeted him.  
“Spare me the niceties and let’s go fetch Master Parker”, Peter replied, motioning behind him to float the chest with the ransom out. “Once I am certain she is alive and well, we can proceed to the exchange.”  
“Straight to the point”, the pirate chuckled. “Your reputation precedes you, Knight Parker. Come, your Master has been waiting.”

Peter followed, stretching his senses: there was something there, that made the Force hum quietly. He couldn’t say whether it was a good or a bad thing, it just… was. He resolved to keep an eye on it as they walked through corridors to get to the cells. Finally, they arrived at the cell where May was, Force-cuffs around her wrists, but still as regal as ever.

“Peter”, she tutted, “what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you got captured too, I trained you better than that.”  
“I’ve come to get you, Master”, Peter replied, suppressing a smile but feeling better now that he could see she was fine and feel her reassurance in the Force. “As agreed”, he said to the pirate, floating the chest and landing it in front of him as May came out and received her own lightsabre.  
“It was a pleasure to deal with you, Jedi Knight”, the pirate replied with a smirk, observing their haul – but what if May’s freedom was expensive? She was needed.

May looked at him as though she was going to laugh, but she didn’t and instead, leant against Peter, momentarily letting down her mental shields to let him know she’d gotten her knee badly hurt when her own ship had crashed, resulting in her capture. The pirates had tended to it and she’d used a healing trance to reduce the damage, but it still hurt too much for her to put any weight on it. Slowly, they started their trek back to Peter’s ship, the pirates obviously not caring about them anymore now that they had their credits.

They were almost there when Peter stopped.

“Do you feel it?” he asked.

May kept silent for a moment, listening to the Force and frowning.

“A presence? It’s very dim. A shielding Force-sensitive.”  
“Dark” Peter replied, gritting his teeth. “That presence is dark. There is a Sith somewhere around here.”

May glanced at him.

“Are you _sure_ it’s dark? I can barely feel it.”  
“Certain”, Peter nodded.  
“Impressive”, a voice drawled somewhere beyond them. “Usually, no one senses me before it’s too late. I should have known, though. Your reputation precedes you, Knight Parker.”

Something dark fell to the ground and slowly unfurled, revealing a tall humanoid cloaked in a black coat, the hood drawn far over its face and hiding it. The guy dropped his presence-shielding, and May actually gasped as Peter gritted his teeth. The Sith had an unbelievably strong presence, stifling everything in the Force and putting him on edge.

“Force”, May whispered.  
“Go to the ship”, Peter said, “I’ll hold him back”, he added, his lightsabre landing in his hand.

The man laughed.

“Hold _me_ back? Kid, you’re barely out of your Trials and you think you’re ready to fight me?”  
“Peter”, May whispered, “Peter don’t. His presence…” she shivered.  
“I feel it”, Peter replied sternly. “The Force is with me. Go, Master. You are needed.”

He held his hand out and lit his ‘sabre, the blade of turquoise blue springing out with a hum that settled in his bones as he opened himself to the Force. He let out a sigh, feeling everything around him, and beyond, a black vortex where the Sith stood. Next to him, May settled in the ataru opening form, lighting her ‘sabre even though Peter had asked her to retreat.

“I’m not leaving you, Padawan”, she replied.

Facing them, the Sith cracked his neck and, in one fluid movement, dropped his cloak and lit his lightsabre. The black, red-hued blade hummed low and ominously, and Peter felt a cold shiver cross his body, almost as if… _No_. No, the crystals were _not_ calling to him. It was the Dark Side, corrupting everything… He looked up to see his adversary’s face. The Sith was a zabrak with red skin and black markings, his horns dangerously sharp, his eyes a striking gold.

“You are a smart woman, May. Why is your Padawan stupid enough to think he can fight me?”

Peter felt May’s anger as she released it in the Force, something sharp and bitter that made him uneasy. May had quite a temper, but she was level-headed enough to control it. And yet he could feel it all too easily. The casual use of her name confirmed what he’d guessed: his Master knew that Sith, probably before he had Fallen.

“Darth Pool”, she seethed. “I should have recognized your foul smell.”  
“You wound me, dear. Really though, step back, both of you. I have no business with you today.”  
“It is a Jedi’s duty to rid the world of the Sith”, Peter replied, his voice sharp.

The Sith curled his fist and May let out a blood-curdling scream, her legs folding under her as she collapsed heavily. Peter felt her pain in the Force and remained frozen for a second, unsure what the Sith had done to incapacitate her so. Darth Pool’s golden eyes settled back on Peter, and the zabrak inhaled deeply.

“I can feel your anger, young Parker. Your desire to avenge your Master. Never before had I tasted something so… exquisite.”

Peter gnashed his teeth together, gripping his lightsabre tighter just so he wouldn’t fling himself at the Sith in anger. He couldn’t afford to Fall, for once you did, it would forever be your path. He’d heard that enough as a Padawan, and with the war raging on.

“What did you do to her?” he growled, feeling his anger grow and holding it tight to release it into the Force.  
“Nothing permanent”, the zabrak replied in a saccharine tone. “Now step back, before I lose my temper.”  
“I cannot allow a Sith to remain alive”, Peter retorted, settling into the familiar opening form of Djem So.  
“As you will”, Darth Pool replied, vaulting forward so fast Peter only countered him at the last moment, blue striking reddish black, the familiar heat bringing drops of sweat to his skin. “Mmh, so much potential”, the Sith hummed.

It was obvious after two passes how under-skilled Peter was when compared to the Sith Lord. He was a good duellist, but Darth Pool was a _great_ one. Peter wasn’t sure there was a Master Jedi currently alive who could match him, and the Sith used the Dark side with ruthless efficiency, forcing Peter into defence and running him ragged. Soon, Peter was out of breath, and he was pretty sure this was more predatory play from the Sith than an actual duel. Surely, Darth Pool could have lopped off his limbs or his head several times by now, and yet he hadn’t. Aside from a few burning grazes, tattered tunics, exhausted muscles and struggling lungs, Peter wasn’t injured, which was… weird.

Eventually, he lost his footing, stumbled and fell. His lightsabre clattered out of reach, and before he could call it back to his hand, the zabrak swooped it up and clipped it to his belt, holding his own out to Peter’s chest.

“I’m taking this as a trophy. You were good, kid. Just not good enough.”

Peter swallowed his fear, gathering it and casting it into the Force, before he looked up to stare at the Sith in the eye.

“You cannot truly defeat me. If you kill me, I’ll become more powerful than you could ever hope to be.”

The Sith snorted and ultimately barked out a laugh.

“You’re a nutcase, Knight Parker. I like you. Now, go to sleep.”  
“I’m not-” Peter started, indignant, before his eyes closed and he fell asleep under the sheer power of the Force compulsion.

*

Peter woke up feeling exceptionally well-rested, if cold. Then, slowly, the awareness of the last few hours trickled back in and he sat up briskly. He nearly head-butted May, who was sitting beside him, her skin ashen grey.

“Master?” he rasped.  
“It was foolish of you to take Darth Pool on by yourself”, she chided him. “He is strong in the Force and in its Dark Side, and an accomplished duellist.”  
“What did he do to you?”

May pursed her lips, and slowly got to her feet. Peter hastened to do the same, and went to clip his lightsabre back to his belt before he realized he didn’t have it. The Sith had taken it. The Sith had taken his ‘sabre, and while he had both Master and Knight on the ground and unable to defend themselves, he had done nothing about it.

“Master”, Peter said, the chill of fear permeating in his voice. “How are we still alive? Why- Why would a Sith spare us?”  
“Surely it must have served his purpose”, May answered. “I do not know how, but we shall both meditate on that. Come, now. Darth Pool is long gone, and I really do not want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

Peter nodded but stretched out his senses and – yes, he could no longer feel the dark creeping of Darth Pool. He helped May to his ship, set their course, and let D5 handle the rest. May settled in a Healing trance, and he himself did his best to meditate, basking in the Force and finding his balance- No. _No_. Peter reached for his balance, unable to grasp it, fumbling like he had never done before. He couldn’t find his balance. Something was _wrong_ and he had no idea what. He’d fought Sith before, it was far from being the first time, but these encounters had never left him so… he couldn’t even find a word to express how deeply unsettled he was, like someone had suddenly tugged off the rug under his feet and left him to faceplant.

He opened his eyes and felt dread fill him as he met May’s worried gaze.

“He never wanted to fight us. He wiped the floor with us, but he tried to talk his way out of the fight. What kind of Sith does that? Master, you knew him, didn’t you?”

May sighed heavily and leaned her head against the hull.

“I did. He was still a Padawan when I became a Knight”, she replied. “At that time, he was still called Wade. We were never close, but we got along well. He became a Knight about the same time I took Mary-Jane as my Padawan. He always had trouble keeping his anger in check, and while we were worried when he was still a young Knight… we became less so as he got more experienced. Until he was about to become a Master, not from guiding a Padawan to Knighthood, but from his control of the Force and knowledge of it.” She gulped. “It was then, when it was most unlikely, that he Fell to the Dark Side. I do not know what happened, but the next time I saw him, he was on the opposite side of a battlefield, with yellow eyes and a red ‘sabre, calling himself Darth Pool. That’s all I know, Peter.”

Peter bit his lip. Sudden Falls were the stuff of nightmares. He took a deep breath and quieted his mind and his churning thoughts, attempting to meditate again, and this time, the Force answered him – with a vision.

Darth Pool was sitting just like him, apparently meditating with a hand on his own ‘sabre’s, the other on Peter’s, chaos rolling around him and yet never touching him. Peter couldn’t see what was around him, but he could feel it through the Force. There were objects levitating around him – bits and pieces of mechanical projects, ship parts Peter could barely identify. Peter walked closer, his eyes set on the Sith, and walked through the circle of floating objects, pausing beside the zabrak. He was all chiselled muscles and black tattoos on red skin, marred by scars crisscrossing on his torso. Peter recognized some of the tattooed characters as Sith writing, and averted his eyes – some Sith writing were curses that made you fall to the Dark side, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try to read them.

“Missing me already?” the zabrak said, his lips quirking up into a smile before his eyes opened.

They glowed with a golden light, just like a few hours before, and Peter shuddered.

“What is this? Did you bring me here? For what purpose?”

Slowly, like a cat stretching out, Darth Pool stood up, his movements graceful and predatory, lighting a fire in Peter’s stomach, which couldn’t possibly a good sign.

“I have only been so disquieted once in my life, young Jedi”, the Sith said. “And that was just before my Fall. If anything, _I_ should be asking you what you did and what you’re doing here.”

Peter let out a breath and called his lightsabre to his hand, feeling it thump familiarly against his palm. He opened his eyes at the feeling, and looked down to the unlit lightsabre clutched in his hand.

He looked up when he heard May gasp, her eyes fixated on the ‘sabre, and realized with a sinking stomach that he shouldn’t have been able to hold his lightsabre.

“It appeared out of thin air”, his Master breathed, before looking up at him, forlorn. “Oh, Peter… What have you done?”

Peter gulped, eyes on his lightsabre.

“Nothing! It was just- The Sith was there and he had by ‘sabre, and I called it to my hand, that’s all!”

May pinched her lips, staring at him, and said nothing at all. Peter could feel her gentle Force-prodding at him, trying to- to understand, he guessed. Felt her pause at something, observing something he couldn’t see. Only when she closed her eyes again and he felt her presence recede did he realize.

“I feel it again”, he said with a breath, relieved. “The balance.”

Her eyes snapped open.

“ _What?_ You feel balanced again? When you are touched by Darkness?”

Peter opened his mouth – but what could he say, really? It made no sense. He _shouldn’t_ feel balanced if somehow, the Dark Side had taken a hold of him. He sank in meditation again, focused not on the Zabrak – twice was enough in a day – and not on balance, since that seemed to lead him to Darth Pool for some reason, but on the will of the Force. Trying to figure out what it wanted.

He must have sunken deeper than he thought, because he came back only when May touched his shoulder, and he suddenly realized he was hungry, cold and cramped. At least, he felt at peace, balanced and refreshed.

“We’ve arrived”, she said simply.

His eyes widened. He’d spent nearly all the trip meditating, no wonder he felt so weird. Slowly, he unfolded himself and stood up, following the Jedi Master out. They were back to the Temple – not on Coruscant, however much he wished to be there – but the one the Jedi gathered during this war against the Sith. He could feel how May had been rattled by their meeting with the zabrak and her previous imprisonment, and swallowed past the lump in his throat. He’d have to ask guidance from another master – but first, he had to give his report to the Council.

He still took the time to go back to his apartments to eat, refresh himself and change his clothes, before he went to the Council. Only once he stepped inside did he realize the balance was leaving him and he was teetering on the edge – on the edge of what, he had no idea, but he sure felt close to Falling. Given the stern looks of the Jedi Masters, May had already given her report. Sure, the war had made them grim, but they’d never felt- he winced. So bright. Blindingly bright, hurting his senses.

He bowed and fixed his gaze on Steve Rogers. Ever since he was a Youngling, he had always put him at ease. More than May, he had known how to curb his fears and help him release them into the Force. He had wondered why he hadn’t chosen him as his Padawan – had even asked, two years into his apprenticeship with May – and his answer had been simple and yet frustrating: it wasn’t the will of the Force. Feeling grounded under his watchful eyes, he started to give his report with as much clarity as he could. He was just telling them how he’d felt balanced again after talking to the Sith through a somewhat weird Force connection, when he opened his mouth to ask something, and he felt _it_.

A compulsion of the Force, not for him, but passing _through_ him and into Steve. His eyes fluttered close and all the Masters gasped, feeling something, probably understanding more than he could – he was only a Knight, had barely attained Knighthood, after all. Even though he’d always been more attuned to the Force and its will than they were.

“A prophecy!” the Togruta councillor gasped loudly.

And Steve talked, but his voice felt strange and there was an echo to it, and he could _feel_ the Force in it.

“One shall be Light and One shall be Dark  
And through both Balance can be found  
Two must become One  
And thus will be born  
The Line of the Chosen One.”

Chaos erupted, and Peter couldn’t stop himself from snorting at the thought that the supposedly balanced and unflappable Jedi Masters on the Council were sent cackling like headless chickens when suddenly given a prophecy. They routinely got visions and yet something _surer_ , like a prophecy, something that was destined to pass, no matter the way, was enough to make them lose their cool. It would be hilarious if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

Steve shook himself and looked at him, before he stood up and tilted his head in a come hither gesture. Bowing to the Council, he followed after him, waiting for him to speak.

“You are unbalanced, Knight Parker”, Steve said after a moment, completely disregarding the prophecy he’d just spoken. “Is that how you felt after meeting the Sith?”  
“Yes, Master Rogers”, Peter replied.  
“I felt you were uncomfortable with the Council. Do you mind telling me why?”

Peter winced and tried to find words to explain what he felt in the Force.

“It’s as though all the Masters are… too bright. Blinding. I’d never felt anything like that before.”

Steve hummed.

“Do you find comfort in the Light?”

Peter frowned and settled in a light meditation, looking inward and feeling something… _crawling_ , some sort of painful unease that didn’t lighten up. And yet there was still a warm comfort in the Light, a feeling of belonging, of home.

“Not as much as I used to”, Peter admitted. “Master, who was this Sith Lord? My Master seemed to know who he was before he Fell.”

Steve nodded.

“Knight Wade Wilson. He was incredibly skilled, one of the best of us, and deeply attuned to the Force. Like you are, I’d say, and you know there aren’t many who are so sensitive to the Force and its will. He was about to get his Mastery from his studies and skill alone when he Fell.” She looked up to peer at him. “Before that happened, though, he felt much the same as you do now. He told me, and those were his words, ‘it’s as though attaining Mastery in the Light would unbalance the Force. I don’t know what to make of that – I can’t stop my progress nor my learning, but it feels as though if I go this far, I will cross a point of no return’. I do not know what he felt in the Force, but I’m sure of one thing: Falling didn’t just happen, he chose it. He completely embraced the Dark Side and became a Sith Apprentice.” He paused. “I met him again, on the battlefield, but he had no wish to fight me. His presence in the Force was… strange, to say the least. There was Light there, Light that he renounced when he became a Sith. I don’t know what happened to him, but I do know one thing: he is neither a Master in the Light, nor in the Dark. If he completed his Apprenticeship, I have no idea how he broke his bonds to his Master.”  
“He felt distinctively like a Sith when I met him”, Peter protested. “Are you suggesting he might actually be Grey?”

Steve smiled and shook his head.

“No. To be a Grey Jedi is to serve the Light, even though you tread the boundary with Darkness. Once you Fall, you cannot be Grey – you’re Dark. For all intend and purposes, Darth Pool is _Dark_. Being Sith, however, is another matter entirely.”

Peter dwelled on her words.

“I didn’t wish to fight us. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”  
“He is stronger than you, if merely through experience, and does not shy from using the Dark Side. You were at a disadvantage from the start, Knight Parker, even with your impressive abilities.” He paused and stilled. “I am more troubled by that… _bond_ the two of you seemed to have. It reminds me of ancient legends that should have no serious basis.”  
“I have never heard of anything close to that.”  
“You wouldn’t have”, Steve replied, smiling, and closed his eyes. Peter didn’t say a word as he listened to the Force, before he opened his eyes again. “The Force has plans for you, and your path will part from that of the Jedi. That, I can see clearly. Your meeting with Pool wasn’t fortuitous, and a shatter-point. His choice to take your lightsabre with him started you on that path.”  
“If I hadn’t-”  
“His choice”, Steve repeated softly, but sternly. “This was not your shatter-point to act on. Now come, there is something that might help you see clearer.”

Steve took him to the Archives – smaller and more depleted than they would have liked, although most of their knowledge was gathered on Ossus. There, he opened a somewhat small safe containing a few holocrons, and handed one to him.

“You are the only one to know exactly how your meeting with Pool was. Compare the legends of this holocron with what you lived, maybe you will find some answers. I do not know.”  
“Thank you, Master Rogers”, Peter replied, bowing, his fingers curled around the holocron. “About the prophecy…”  
“Do not trouble yourself with that”, he said, shaking his head. “Prophecies are twisty things that several could lead to fruition, in many different ways. They are not as useful as you may think.”

The holocron was that of a very ancient Jedi Master – a Togruta, who for some reason didn’t wear the practical gear and simple clothes the Jedi favoured, but rich robes and jewels that spoke of a higher status in society.

“Dyads in the Force were how Balance was achieved”, they said. “A Sith Lord, balanced by one strong in the Light – very often a Jedi. They held each other Balanced, but also the Force. When the voracious Sith Lord Darth Regi struck down the Light pendant of his Master, he broke down that carefully maintained Balance. The Sith then devolved into mindless violence, drowning themselves in the Dark instead of mastering it, and the Light wasn’t strong enough to Balance them again. Only a dyad can restore that Balance – _can_. They may not succeed still, but they are the only ones who have the power to do so. This is the legend that was passed down through the Order.”

The holocron closed and Peter held his breath. It was talked about as a legend, but… But it rang like truth in the Force. A dyad. Him and Pool were a dyad in the Force, balancing each other and the Force… if only they worked together. Slowly, he breathed out and sank into the Force, deliberately calling for Wade. It didn’t take long – or at least, it didn’t feel like it had taken long – before he found himself facing the zabrak deep into a fascinating moving meditation. Wade was both graceful and strong, swinging two ‘sabers in a meditation of the blade that highlighted the tight control he had over his own body.

“Here again?” the Sith called. “I thought you had enough of my company.”  
“I received the guidance of Master Rogers”, Peter settled for saying. “I wanted to understand, why I only feel Balanced near you.”

Outwardly, Wade didn’t react, but Peter felt his interest in the Force and fought the buzzing need to join him in his meditation.

“Well, do tell me more. I’m listening”, the Sith replied. “What kind of platitude did Rogers serve you? _There is no chaos, there is harmony?_ Tell me, Peter… have you ever heard the Sith Code?”

Peter blinked, perplexed. This was not where he had been going, but he could admit his curiosity. He knew the Sith held some kind of Code, but he had no idea what its tenets were.

“I figured not”, the zabrak snorted. “Well then, let me tell you this”, he resumed, his blades extinguishing as he opened his eyes and turned them to Peter, their glowing yellow unnerving. “Peace is a lie. There is only passion.”

Peter gasped, the onslaught of _feelings_ Wade was pouring into the Force taking his breath away. It felt… It felt like someone who _understood_ how deep his connection to the Force was, how instinctive, and how it affected everything he did. For a short, wild second, it felt like he and the Sith were not separate entities, but one whole.

“The Force will free me”, Wade whispered, his lips against Peter’s, and when had he gotten there?! “Tell me, Peter. What kind of balance has your precious Code brought you?”  
“Not the Code”, Peter murmured back, unable or unwilling to pull away – it didn’t feel like there was much of a difference anyway. “Knowledge. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.” He paused, his eyes boring into the Sith’s. “Have you ever heard of dyads? Dyads in the Force?”  
Darth Pool snorted.  
“That old legend? It’s older than the Sith Empire itself, boy. But there was a measure of truth to it – the Sith Emperors of old always had a light-sider with them, and they were often very close… closer than the Jedi would admit.”  
“I don’t know about history”, Peter replied urgently, “but I’m sure about what I feel, what rings true in the Force… We are a dyad, Lord Pool. The balance to each other.”

The zabrak stared at him, the Force shifting about him as he prodded it for answers.

“I find it hardly believable, and yet you say the truth”, he finally answered. “A dyad, to balance each other and bring balance back to the Force.” He rose a hand, fingers brushing Peter’s hair from his forehead. “However… I had this vision, once. When I was still a Jedi Knight in the caves of Illium. One of those visions you get when you find your crystal.”

Peter shivered. He’d had one just like that, as a Padawan, when he’d picked his very first kyber. It had frightened him for a long time – the pain mixed with the joy pouring in the Force, the light of the sun blinding when he dared look up at the endless sea of sand, and the single cry rising in the desert. He’d never talked about it – few talked about what they Saw, when the crystals talked to them.

“I Saw a vergence that I had sired, in one way or another. I could not see their face, but their hands were dipped in the blood of innocents. Tainted hands, bringing Balance back to the Force.”

Unbidden, tears slipped from Peter's eyes.

“I’ve been having visions since I was very young”, he whispered. “Visions of pain, of the Temple up in flames and Jedi dying by thousands at the hand of our own. I saw soldiers clad in white bringing destruction and leaving nothing but fuming corpses in their wake.” He looked up into Darth Pool’s eyes, their unsettling yellow boring into him. “I cannot bear to see this future come to pass.”  
“We shape the future”, Wade declared with a snarl. “I will not be some puppet to be used and discarded by the Force, nor follow some kind of destiny. _Through victory, my chains are broken._ I’m not a slave, not to anyone.”

Peter looked away.

“How can you be so certain? Many times, Force-users have brought their visions to life by trying to avoid them.”  
“Self-fulfilling prophecies”, Pool gritted. “I’ve always hated those. Tell me, O Balance of mine, what do you intend to do now?”  
“I am a Jedi”, Peter replied. “I follow the will of the Force.”  
“And what is that will?”  
“To find you.”

The Zabrak grinned.

“I was hoping you would say that. Join me on Ord Mantell. Together, we will bring Balance to the Force.”

*

The war had raged for a long time, but Wade and Peter had drawn away from it several years before. Leaving both the path of the Jedi and the Sith to create a new one – not a new Order nor a new Code, but simply a new life for the both of them. As time passed and they got to know each other, their presences and powers merged and grew, the path of dyads set apart from Jedi and Sith, balance achieved between them.

And then, Ossus happened, opening deep wounds into the Force, and they ceased to roam about space and fight for balance, both renounced by the Sith and the Jedi. The Sith were destroyed and Wade refused to remain the last one standing, when he’d never been a good Sith to begin with. The Jedi allied themselves with the emerging Republic, and Peter couldn’t be part of that – not when so many of the paths starting from there lead to Darkness. The Force pushed them, away from the Core, into the Outer Rim.

Peter gulped, looking at the deserted planet as they approached. Tatooine had nothing to be desired, but it called to him, strong in the Force and yet… quiet, in a way. Not bustling with life like so many other planets steeped into the Living Force, but settled in its ways, sure of its place. He’d seen these endless dunes of sand so often in his visions, he felt like he already knew them. His hand drifted down, to his still flat abdomen pulsing with life. Was it what his vision meant, all those years ago? He had never dwelled on his possibility to bear children – hadn’t rejected it, no, but never expected it to become important.

And yet, the life he could feel growing there was already strong in the Force – and his visions of destruction had never been clearer. He was bearing destruction, death. Not for the immediate future, but in the decades, maybe centuries to come. He didn’t know whether Wade was aware of that or not. They’d known bringing balance back to the Force would be painful, as it had been on Ossus. They’d also known it wasn’t the only time it would be so. A prophecy had been spoken, of a Chosen One, echoing the words of Master Rogers when Peter last saw him.

He closed his eyes, breathed, and reached into the Force for peace and purpose.

*

The traveller had seen many places, and many strange things. The desert-dwellers, however, weren’t known to him. They held blades of light, swinging effortlessly in Tatooine’s hot, dry air, moving as one and the same, two bodies sharing one mind. A bit farther, a child was following their moves, her hands empty, her feet never touching the ground, as sand drifted and danced about her. The air sizzled and cracked with barely restrained power, and the traveller felt their breath leave their lungs.

“Who is this child?” they asked one of the inhabitants, a gruff man wearied by a hard life of farming moisture.

The man turned and grunted.

“Oh, that’s the Skywalker.”

**Author's Note:**

> My HC is that Peter is trans in this story, but aside from the child it has no importance on the plot so it can also be weird alien biology.


End file.
